Harriet Potter: The Girl Who Lived
by anonymous1222
Summary: AU: What if Harry Potter was born a girl? The effects of such a change would be drastic, both for better and worse. As time goes on, the effects of this gender switch will become more severe, and we may find that Harriet Potter, while still the hero of this story, isn't quite the same as the hero we knew Harry to have been. The choices she makes will affect relationships and story.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I apologize if the story ever seems similar to the books, but I need to set up the story properly, and, of course, not everything is necessarily going to change. But I promise, as the story goes on, the change in Harry's gender will have more of an impact on the story.

Also, assume, for sake of the story, that the prophecy never stated whether or not the chosen one would be a boy or a girl, but rather, a child.

Chapter 1: The Girl Who Lived

It was a still night on Privet Drive. Most of the street's residents had long since gone to bed, and the only sound to be heard was the distant hooting of an owl as three strange visitors stood before the house at Number 4 Privet Drive. The oldest of the three, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, held a baby, bundled in a blanket, between the three of them.

Minerva McGonagall, an old woman with a sharp face and her hair tied up in a tight bun, and Rubeus Hagrid, who stood twice as tall and five times as wide as a normal man, leaned over the baby as Dumbledore pushed aside the blankets that covered her head, revealing a tuft of black hair that just barely covered the lightning-shaped scar on her forehead.

Hagrid nearly burst into tears as Professor Dumbledore laid the baby girl on the Dursley's doorstep. The old professor tucked a letter, addressed to Vernon and Petunia Dursley, into the blankets and gently whispered, "Good luck, Harriet Potter."

Chapter 2: A Most Peculiar Letter

Ten-year-old Harriet Potter, a pretty, albeit scrawny girl with long, untamed black hair, and glasses in desperate need of repair was being pulled painfully by her ear out of her Uncle Vernon's car while her Aunt Petunia hurried her soaking wet and shivering son Dudley into the house. "What did I say about funny business?" Vernon told the young girl as he pulled her into the house and unlocked the cupboard beneath the stairs, "Now tell me, Potter," he shouted as he shoved a fat finger in Harriet's face, "what happened? And tell the truth, or you'll wish that you died in that car crash along with with your parents."

"I don't know," Harriet said as she wrenched her ear free from Vernon's vice-like grip—which he had honed with years of training, "the glass was there one minute and then it was gone. It was like magic."

Her Uncle Vernon grew furious at this remark, and his pudgy face turned a deep shade of purple. He threw open the cupboard door and shoved the girl inside, where she tripped onto the tiny bed shoved inside, "There's no such thing as magic," he spat out like venom before slamming the door closed and locking it, leaving Harriet alone in the darkness.

Harriet held out her hand and groped the air until she felt the string connected to the lone light bulb in the cupboard. She gave it a nice tug, and the "room" was lit up with dim light. The cupboard was tiny, just barely long enough for her to stretch out in one direction; and the bed had been cut to make it fit inside. And there was dust everywhere, but Harriet had long since grown accustom to it, as well as the numerous insects and spiders that found their way in her living space.

Harriet sat up in bed and pulled her knees into her chest. She pulled off her banged-up glasses and ran the back of her hand over her eyes, desperately resisting the oncoming tears. But, unable to hold it in, she shoved her face against her knees and cried into her old, too large jeans that her aunt had found in the back of Dudley's closet when he was six. She gripped her arms tight and dug her fingernails into her skin until she felt tiny trickles of blood on her fingertips.

She hadn't lied to her Uncle. At the zoo, Dudley had pulled Harriet's hair and thrown her to the ground before pressing his face against the glass and taunting the large boa constrictor. Then, as if by magic, the glass simply disappeared, and Dudley fell forward with a splash, and the snake climbed out of the tank and escaped. Though, one thing she didn't tell the zoo authorities or her Aunt and Uncle was that just before the snake fled, it had looked Harriet right in the eyes and thanked her, in English.

For a week Harriet remained in that cupboard. The door only ever opened so that Vernon or Petunia could toss some tiny scraps of food inside or so that Harriet could take one of her two daily bathroom breaks. Dudley had even made it a habit to jump up and down on the stairs above the cupboard, which released a cloud of dust every time his overweight mass came down upon the strained wood.

But once the week had passed, Harriet had been let out by a very frustrated Vernon who barked, "Bring the mail," as he walked back into the kitchen to eat what remained of his breakfast after Dudley swiped the man's bacon.

With a tired sigh, Harriet walk to the front door and picked up three letters from the mat: A postcard for Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister; an envelope that looked like a bill, and another brown envelope addressed to Harriet.

The girl turned her back to the door, letters in hand, when it struck her. Hands trembling, she raised the stack of letters and stared at the thick brown envelope where, written in emerald in, it said,

Ms. H. Potter

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Harriet turned the stamp-less envelope over to see a purple wax seal of a coat of arms containing a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large, ornate letter _H. _

"What's taking so long, girl?" Vernon called impatiently from the kitchen.

Harriet walked slowly to the kitchen, still staring at the letter addressed to her as she handed the other two pieces of mail to her uncle. The man looked at the envelope in disgust as he dropped it to the table and picked up the postcard from Marge, "Oh no," he said, "Marge's ill, she ate a funny whelk…"

"Dad!" Dudley interrupted and he pointed his smelting stick—an annoying accessory he received from his school, which he had been using to poke and hit Harriet with since he received it a few weeks back, "Harriet's got a letter."

Uncle Vernon ripped it out of her hand, to which she cried, "Give it back, it's addressed to me."

But Vernon was shaking and his normally smug face had been replaced by a look of utter terror, "P-Petunia…." He called to his wife, who was cooking up another pan of bacon for her son, "P-Petunia dear," his nervous calling grew louder.

"What is it, Vernon," she said, annoyed that she was pulled away from her cooking, "Oh my goodness….Vernon!" the two stared at each other a moment before staring at Harriet. But not with the normal look of disgust. Harriet thought they almost looked afraid of her.

"What is it, Dad," Dudley said as he poked his smelting stick into his father's shins, without eliciting the tiniest of responses, "I want to read it, what does it say."

"No," Harriet protested, "It's my letter, let me read it."

"Out, both of you," Vernon said as he stood up and pulled the pan off of the stove. But the two didn't move. "I said 'OUT!'" he screamed, and the two children fled the kitchen. Vernon, his hands still trembling, dropped the letter on the open flame of the stove and gave his wife another frightened look as the parchment took to flame.

The following day, Harriet had been moved to one of Dudley's old bedrooms. After her letter had been burned, she overheard her aunt and uncle talking about someone watching the house, so the move was no surprise to Harriet. Though, as comfortable as it was not having to cram herself into that tiny cupboard beneath the stairs anymore, Harriet would have much preferred to have that letter in hand in the dim lighting of that tiny room.

Day after day, more letters would arrive from Harriet. And every time Vernon took them from the girl, the next day an even larger amount would be delivered. What's more, owls had started nesting on the Dursley's home and, just like the letters, each day more and more showed up.

Vernon took every measure he could think of to stop the delivery of the letters: first he nailed the mail slot shut; then when the letters started getting pushed through the cracks in the door, he added an airtight rubber to all of the doors and windows—which ended up being more of a hassle for him, because now one had to pull extra hard to open the doors. But then the letters just started piling up on the windows and Harriet could swear her hat her Uncle's face couldn't possibly get any redder, nor could the vein in his forehead bulge any more without bursting.

But that Sunday, Uncle Vernon sat peacefully in the kitchen, eating a piece of toast with a smile on his face as he repeated the mantra, "No post on Sundays," in a gleeful tone over and over again. "Not one bloody letter," he said as Harriet stepped into the kitchen, failing to dodge one of Dudley's attempted jabs with the smelting stick, which caught her just below the knee, almost making her trip, "Good shot, my boy."

Harriet sat at the table and waited patiently for her relatives to finish eating so that she could pick from the scraps when Vernon turned to her and said, "Whoever the nutter that sent all of those letters is, they are no match for the post. After all," he said as he picked up a rather crispy piece of bacon, "there's no post on Sundays." He opened his mouth and prepared to take a triumphant bite out of the bacon when a single letter came flying out of the fireplace, hitting him square in the nose. "What the bloody—" he started but was cut off as a low rumbling ran through the house, and, before anyone had time to react, a torrent of letters came flooding through the fireplace.

While Aunt Petunia pushed Dudley outside—which was not an easy feat considering his size and the airtight rubber on the doors—Uncle Vernon had to pin Harriet down to ensure she couldn't get to any of the letters. "You listen here, you little witch," he shouted over the rumbling, "We're moving away, far away. They won't find you where we are going."

Chapter 3: The Cottage

It was the night before her 11th birthday, and Harriet lay beneath a moldy blanket on the dusty floor of some rundown cottage on the middle of rock out at sea. Dudley was fast asleep on the couch with his arm hanging down by his side, and Harriet was eagerly watching the seconds tick down to midnight so that she could, as with every year, wish herself happy birthday before anyone had the chance to ruin the day for her.

Outside, a fierce thunderstorm was raging, though given all of the stress that the Dursleys had gone through over the course of the past week, it was no shock to Harriet that they were all fast asleep.

Harriet watched as the seconds ticked down on the watch. 10…..9…..8

Harriet swore she could hear something knocking against the door, but figured it must be the wind.

7…6….5…..4

the knocking sound came again, but harder. Dudley sat up slightly in the couch, but seemed as if he were about to fall right back asleep.

3…2….1

And with a loud crack, the door was knocked inward, off of its hinges, and in stepped a man, twice the height of a normal man and five times the girth, with wild hair that covered his head and face. Dudley screamed as he bolted up from bed, and Vernon rushed down the stairs, rifle in hand, with Petunia right behind him, "Who's there," Vernon said sheepishly as he aimed his rifle at the man with a trembling hand.

The man walked inside and looked up at the man, "Sorry 'bout that," he said politely before bending down and putting the heavy door back in place as if it weighed nothing.

Vernon descended the stairs and held the rifle up to the intruder's head, "I demand you leave at once," he tried to sound forceful, was unable to muster up the proper tone whilst looking up a man who could easily crush him with one giant hand.

Hagrid, with an annoyed groan, turned, grabbed the barrel of the rifle, and bent it upwards as if it were rubber. Vernon, terrified of this show of strength, dropped the useless rifle to the ground before pulling Dudley off the couch and herding his son and wife against the far wall, as far from the beast of a man as possible.

Hagrid took Dudley's place on the couch, which groaned under the man's weight. He pulled out a pink umbrella from beneath his coat and pointed it at the fireplace, where the logless pit instantly burst into flame, which Harriet assumed was due to some form of trick. Hagrid then turned to the girl, "An' you must be Ms. Harriet," he said with a smile that showed clearly through his thick tangle of a beard, "I haven' seen you since you was only a baby. You sure take after your mother. 'Specially with 'er eyes and all."

It was the first time Harriet had ever been compared to her parents in a positive way, though she had overheard Aunt Petunia telling Vernon that she was looking more and more like Lily every day. "You knew my parents?" Harriet asked the giant.

"Course I did," he said, "Wonderful people. Very talented the two o' them. But, before I forget, I got somethin' for you," Hagrid carefully reached into his giant overcoat and pulled out a pristine box. Judging by the state the giant was in, Harriet figured he must have taken care not to let anything happen to it. "I made it myself last night. I hope you like it." Harriet looked inside and saw a cake that said 'Happee Birthday Harri,' to which Hagrid admitted, "About tha'…. I ran outta room while writin' that. Sorry."

"Thank you," Harriet said, unsure of what else to say. She had never received a real present before. She stared at the box and bit her lip, "I'm sorry…but who are you?"

"The name's Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, which I'm sure you know all about," he said with a chuckle, but the smile disappeared from his face when he saw Harriet's look of confusion. He angrily turned to the Dursleys, "She's been under your roof for a decade and you never told her?"

Vernon's face turned a very dark shade of purple as anger started building up in him, "I forbid you to say anything," though whatever intimidation Vernon had hoped for was lost in the whimper that escaped. Meanwhile, Aunt Petunia, with a look of sheer terror on her face, held Dudley even tighter to her.

Ignoring the man, Hagrid looked Harriet straight in the eye, "Have you ever made anythin' happen. Anythin' you couldn't explain?"

Harriet's jaw dropped. Could this man have possibly known about the incident at the zoo?

Hagrid, taking Harriet's stunned expression as an invitation to continue say something that Harriet would never have expected, "You're a witch, Harriet."

There was a moment where everything stood still, and Harriet wracked her brain, unsure of what she heard, "I'm a what?" she gasped, not knowing what to make of his declaration.

"You're a witch, and a thumpin' good one once you get some trainin' in you," Hagrid reached into his coat once more and pulled out an envelope, similar to all the ones that came before, but with the address now changed to:

Ms. H Potter

The Floor

Hut-on-the-rock

The Sea

She pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster:ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mrs. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

After reading the letter, Harriet had many questions, but one there was thing she had to make clear, "You knew, didn't you?" she shot at her Aunt and Uncle, "You knew this whole time and you never told me."

"Knew?" Aunt Petunia said as she stepped away from Dudley, "Of course we knew, how could you not be? The spitting image of my…perfect sister," she spat out these last two words as if they were poison, "and the hair of that arrogant father of yours. Our parents were so proud to have a witch in the family. But I knew her for the freak she was. But once she was out of that school I was able to go back to living a normal life. Until she went and got herself blown up, and we got landed with you!"

Harriet broke into a run and charged her Aunt in an attempt to hit the woman for lying to her for all of these years, but Hagrid, with one saucer-like hand, held her back.

"Easy," Hagrid said, calming the girl, who was trying her hardest to fight back the tears that were already streaming down her face.

Harriet gripped her left forearm as tight as she could, "What happened?" Harriet asked Hagrid.

"There was a wizard…a terrible wizard. About twenty years ago, he started recruitin' followers, started buildin' up some power for 'imself. These were very dark times in the wizarding world. But some people, like yer parents, stood up to him. Good people they were, Head Boy and Head Girl as students. And they were very close to Dumbledore, the only wizard he-who-must-not-be-named ever feared; which is probably why he was out to pull them to his cause in the firs' place." Hagrid took a deep breath; the story was obviously hard for him to tell, but Harriet took the opportunity to ask him another question.

"What was the wizard's name?"

For a moment, terror ran across the giant man's face, "I don't like sayin' it, Harriet. Not many do. People are still scared."

"Please, can you tell me?" she sat down by his side and leaned in, "If he really did kill my parents I want to know his name."

Hagrid struggled, trying to muster up the courage to say the name, but no words came out. However, he looked at Harriet, into the deep green eyes that reminded him so much of Lily. He took a deep breath and, with was looked like a lot of difficulty, managed to force out the name, "Voldemort…." The man started sweating, "an' I won't be sayin' the name again," he ascerted.

Harriet nodded, and Hagrid continued, "So he went to your home one night. And when yer parents fought back, he killed them, but then when he turned his wand on you, his curse backfired."

Harriet could not believe what she was being told. But then she thought back to an old nightmare she had on occasion. She was in a bedroom with her mother when a bright flash of green light blurred her vision and the woman screamed until Harriet would wake up with an intense pain in her scar.

"They got what they deserved," Vernon shouted causing Hagrid to turn an angry eye toward the man, "fooling around with magic and weirdos, the world is a better place without their kind running about."

Harriet, wanting to hear the rest, brought Hagrid's attention back to her with a quick nudge, "But what happened to Vol—" she stopped herself when Hagrid tensed up, "I'm sorry, what happened to You-Know-Who?"

At this, Hagrid shrugged, "Who knows. He disappeared. Some say he died. But a man that powerful….I can't believe it. Some people, like myself, believe he's still out there, not dead, but too tired to carry on. But whatever the reason for his disappearance is, it happened after he attacked you."

Harriet's excitement dropped at this comment, "That…that can't be right," she thought to all of the times that Dudley had kicked her around, pulled her hair, "I can't have done anything to stop him," she paused and looked down at her feet, "I can't be a witch."

The giant man placed a saucer-like hand gently on her back,"Just wait and see, Harriet Potter," Hagrid reassured her with a smile, "after a few classes, you'll see what amazing things you can do."

Vernon once again raised his voice, "I will not pay for such rubbish. I will not have some crackpot old fool teaching her magic tricks."

At this, Hagrid stood up, pointed his umbrella at Vernon threateningly, and said in a calm, but infuriated voice, "Don't ever insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me." Suddenly, Hagrid was distracted by the sound of Dudley, off in the corner with Harriet's birthday cake, downing it one handful after the other. With a quick swish of the umbrella, Dudley bolted upright, and a pigtail sprouted from his buttock, causing the three Dursley's to run around in panic whilst Hagrid quickly escorted a laughing Harriet out of the hut.

Chapter 4: Diagon Alley

On their way to Diagon Alley to get her school supplies, Hagrid had taken Harriet to the Leaky Cauldron, a musty old pub that no one seemed to notice, where Harriet had seen the strangest assortment of people in her life. And the moment Hagrid had mentioned Harriet's name to the old bartender everything seemed to stop. But then, after a moment of shocked silence, everyone in the pub was clamoring to bow to the girl in thanks, a courtesy that made Harriet feel very uncomfortable. She had never been treated so kindly, nor had she ever been treated like a lady before, so the actions of the pub-goers really threw her off.

But there was one man who seemed far more peculiar than any other. A Professor Quirinus Quirrell, teacher of the Defense Against the Dark Arts, who wore a purple turban on his head and spoke with a stutter that almost seemed like an act to Harriet. He seemed kind, but Harriet was made very uncomfortable by his presence, and she was none to upset when Hagrid finally hurried her along to the next room and walked her through the entrance to Diagon Alley via the enchanted brick wall.

Her first sight of Diagon Alley left Harriet speechless. Everywhere she looked were people dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, making Harriet feel uncomfortably conspicuous in her oversized jeans and t-shirt.

"Come," Hagrid started walking through the crowd, which was forced to part due to his large size, "we can't hope to buy your things without a bit o' money first."

Harriet had never had much money—a fact attributed to her Aunt and Uncle—so she was unsure of how she was going to afford anything on her school list. But Hagrid assured her with a smile as a white building that towered over all others in the area came into view.

"Gringotts," Hagrid said as they ascended the steps to the building, "run by goblins. Possibly the most secure location in the world, except for Hogwarts that is," he said jovially, obviously proud of his work place.

"Goblins?" Harriet asked, "you couldn't possibly mean those short little things actually exist?" For a moment the girl thought the man was pulling her leg, but the confidence in his reply dispelled such thinking.

"Exist? Of course they exist," Hagrid said as he pushed a giant door open, revealing a long hall lined with desks where scores of the creatures sat, "Nasty, clever creatures," Hagrid said quietly to Harriet, "you'd do well never to cross one if you knew what was good fer you." Hagrid walked up to a Goblin who was writing in some book and cleared his throat to get the tiny creature's attention, "Harriet Potter is here to make a withdrawal." Harriet could sense the nervousness in Hagrid's voice, and she couldn't help but feel intimidated as the goblin leaned over the top of the desk and looked down at the girl.

"I see," he said in an old, sharp voice, "and does Miss Harriet Potter have her key?"

With a trembling hand, Hagrid reached into his coat and handed the goblin a tiny key. He then leaned in and handed a letter, "And this is from Professor Dumbledore," the giant man's voice dropped to a serious tone, "it's about the you know what, in vault 713."

The goblin inspected the letter carefully then looked the man in the eyes, "Very well," he said as he handed the letter back, "Griphook will escort you."

"Hagrid," Harriet whispered as the tiny goblin escorted them to a cart and drove them past numerous vaults, ever on the descent, "what's in vault 713?"

"I can't tell you," Hagrid said as he straightened up, either from the seriousness of the topic or discomfort in the cart….or, possibly, both, "Hogwarts business, top secret."

Harriet dropped the subject, and the cart stopped as Griphook announced, "Vault 687." The goblin jumped out of the cart and unlocked the heavy metal door, and Harriet was met with the mounds of currency that her parents had left behind. She was left speechless at the sight.

Hagrid, catching on, gave her a gentle nudge and said, "Now Harriet, you didn't think yer parents would lead you with nothin' did you?"

Harriet put what money she would need into a small bag before being escorted back to the cart and continuing their descent until they stopped at a large black door with no keyhole. Griphook ran a finger down the length of the door, and it swung open revealing, anticlimactically, nothing but a tiny package in the middle of the giant vault. Hagrid stepped inside and grabbed the object and quickly stuffed it in his coat before wordlessly stepping back into the cart.

After leaving Gringotts, Hagrid dropped Harriet off at Madam Malkin's shop to get her school uniform before rushing off for some "private business," leaving Harriet instructions on where to pick up the rest of her supplies.

So Harriet, nervous about being left alone in such a strange place, walked inside, where she was met by the kind owner of the shop, "Hogwarts, dear?" Harriet nodded, "Good, good," she said as she pulled out her wand. With a flick a small pile of clothes flew from the shelves and into Harriet's arms, "Just follow me."

Harriet was led to the back of the shop, where a small, pale boy with slicked back blond hair was already being fitted. Madam Malkin mentioned to the two that she would be right back, and disappeared to the front of the shop, leaving the two youngsters on their own. "Hello," the boy said kindly, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," Harriet said, figuring it would be good to make a few friends as early as possible.

"Do you know what house you'll get?" the boy asked, though Harriet had no clue what he was talking about.

"No," she said, hoping that this wasn't something she was supposed to have figured out already.

"Well, I guess no one really knows until they get sorted," the boy said, relieving Harriet slightly, "but I'm sure I'll be in Slytherin, everyone in my family has been," he looked up, as if proud of this fact. "What about your parents? What house were they in?"

Harriet had no clue, but before she could answer the question, Madam Malkin walked in and told the boy he was done. The boy nodded to Harriet with a smile, and the two waved goodbye before he walked out, clothes in hand.

As nice as the boy had been, Harriet couldn't help but feel the boy was a bit smug. However, she had no intention of thinking badly of the him so quickly after their first meeting, so she figured she would wait until term started before passing any judgments.

"Now, your turn," Madam Malkin said before closing the curtains to the front of the shop.

She'd never really worn clothes of her own, let alone anything as feminine as what she had on. The Hogwarts uniform: a white buttoned shirt, gray knitted v-neck sweater, black cloak, and black pleated skirt—which felt the strangest to her due to having only ever worn pants—were being magically fitted whilst Madam Malkin was in the front of the shop, likely helping another customer.

Having spent her entire life in Dudley's old clothes, Harriet felt awkward as Madam Malkin returned to finish the fitting, but with her uniform in hand, as well as a new pair of jeans and a handful of t-shirts—"Muggle clothes" as Madam Malkin called them—Harriet made her way to the rest of the shops on the list before meeting Hagrid outside of Ollivanders, where he waited with a large, cloth covered parcel in hand.

"Got everythin' you need there, Harriet?" he pointed to the numerous bags that the girl had, with difficulty, brought along.

"Just about," she said as Hagrid lightened her load, "I just need a wand."

"Well, Ollivanders here will set you up nice 'n proper, but first," Hagrid held forward the parcel, which rustled slightly, "I figured you never got much in the way of presents from the Dursleys, so Happy Birthday."

Harriet put her remaining bags down and took the parcel from the man, "Hagrid, you shouldn't have," she said, feeling somewhat guilty at the kindness the man was showing her, but with some prodding from the man, she removed the cloth from the parcel, revealing a cage that contained a beautiful white owl, "She's beautiful," she said, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Hagrid said, touched by the girl's kind words, "Now, come on. Let's get you yer wand." The girl walked inside the wand shop, leaving Hagrid to wait outside with her supplies.

The shop felt like an old library, large, dusty, and filled with rows and rows of shelves that Harriet could only assume were filled with wands. But there was, apparently, no one there, and Harriet felt uncomfortable in the dim shop, as if someone was watching her. "Hello?" she called as she approached the cluttered desk, but when she got no response she called out loudly, "HELLO?"

"Well, well," came a soft, old voice from the side of the shop, causing Harriet to jump in alarm, "I was wondering when I would be seeing you, Ms. Potter." An old man approached the desk and stared at Harriet with a pair of creepy silver eyes that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. "The spitting image of your mother," he said, "except for that black mop of a head. I remember her first wand well," he walked up to a shelf and pulled out a long, thin box, opened it and presented it to Harriet, "Made of willow, great for charm work, just longer than your mother's at 10 and a half inches," he stared at Harriet, as if he were expecting her to do something. "Well, don't just stand there, give it a wave."

Almost out of instinct, Harriet waved the wand toward a glass cabinet in the corner, causing it to fall off its hook and shatter on the ground below, causing Ollivander to grab the wand from her hand whilst muttering something that Harriet could not make out. "Not to worry," he called, as if he were expecting the wand to work, and he grabbed another wand from the shelves, "the wand chooses the wizard, or witch, so it's just a matter of finding the right fit," he handed Harriet another wand, "ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy," he said, and Harriet gave it a wave, but this time to no effect, causing Ollivander to snatch it out of her hand.

This process was repeated several times; sometimes the wand wouldn't even be in her hand a second before the old man would snatch it from her. But then, after what must have been the twentieth wand, the old man pulled a wand from the shelves and whispered, almost too softly for Harriet to hear, "I wonder." He then briskly brought it to Harriet and held it before her, "holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

The moment the wand touched her fingertips, a sudden warmth spread through Harriet, and the wand felt almost as if it were an extension of her arm. With a simple flick, a shower of sparks erupted from its tip, and Ollivander smiled. "How curious," he said as he took the wand and began wrapping it.

"I'm sorry," Harriet said to the man, who presented her with the box, "but what's curious?"

The old man sighed, "You see, Ms. Potter, I remember every wand I've ever sold. Every. Last. One. And I find it curious that that wand should choose you, when its brother gave you that scar," the man brushed aside Harriet's bangs, revealing the lightning shaped scar on her forehead, and sending an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. "As I said, it's the wand that chooses the wizard, and it's not always clear why. But I think it is very clear that we can expect great things from you. The old man smiled, "After all, He-who-must-not-be-named did great things."

"Voldemort killed my parents," Harriet glared at the man. Though, unlike Hagrid, the old man didn't seemed shocked to hear the name, but merely straightened up, as if to defend his point.

"Yes, the Dark Lord did terrible things. But only a fool would deny that the things he did were magnificent works of magic."

No longer willing to be in the man's presence, Harriet paid for her wand and quickly bolted out of the shop and walked away alongside Hagrid without so much as a glance back.

The two were about to make their way back into the Leaky Cauldron when a small shop caught Harriet's eye, "Hagrid," she stopped and said to the man, "Is it all right if I'll meet you in the pub later? There's something I want to see."

The man thought for a moment, wondering if such a thing was safe, but then shrugged and said, "I suppose it's fine, just don't go wandering off toward Knockturn Alley, mind you. You never know what you'll run into there." And with that said, Hagrid continued back through the brick passage into the Leaky Cauldron.

With Hagrid gone, Harriet stepped into the shop that caught her eye, a barbershop with a giant pair of enchanted scissors above the door that opened and closed continually. The shop was empty, save an old woman who sat sleeping in a chair. "Excuse me, miss," Harriet said to the woman, who quickly stirred, "are you open?"

"Do you see a sign that says we are closed?" the woman shot back at her as she stood up.

"Well, no, but…"

"No matter," the woman interrupted, "just take a seat." The woman motioned toward the chair she was sleeping in and Harriet sat down, confused as to why there was no mirror on the wall. Then, with a flick of the woman's wand, a comb and a pair of scissors flew to Harriet's side. However, the two instruments, as if sentient, hesitated, and flew toward the woman, who had started going through some books by the entrance to the shop, "I don't care how messy it is," the woman snapped at them, "do your job," and with that, the scissors and the comb rushed back to Harriet.

"Umm…aren't you supposed to ask how I want it cut?" Harriet asked. For years her Aunt Petunia had tried to tame her hair, tried to cut it to make it look 'acceptable,' but every time it just simply grew back to its normal wild state. However, Harriet had never wanted Petunia to cut her hair, so maybe this time her hair would stick….if she had some say in the matter.

"Don't worry," the woman said, "just let the scissors do the work, and I'm sure you'll be pleased."

Harriet watched as large clumps of tangled hair continually fell from her head. And after about half an hour, the scissors and comb flew back to the old witch, who came to inspect their work. "Huh," she said, as if surprised by the results, "well….don't worry dear, I know a spell to grow the hair back. We can give it another shot," she looked down at the enchanted scissors and comb, who lowered themselves slightly.

"Wait," Harriet said as she picked up a small hand mirror and looked at the results. Her hair was short and choppy, only just going past her ears, and her bangs were pulled to the side, covering her scar. It wasn't all to unlike a musician she had seen on a magazine once, though the name escaped Harriet now. Sure, it was still messy, but Harriet felt like she needed to change herself before entering this new world. "I love it," she said with a smile.

Hagrid barely recognized her when she walked into the Leaky Cauldron, "What happened to you?" he said, sounding as if he'd had a bit to drink.

"Just got it cut. Do you like it?"

Hagrid smiled, "I love it," and he took a swig of some drink from an oversized mug, "now, off to bed. Big day tomorrow."

Harriet knew just how big of a day it was. And she couldn't wait. Tomorrow she was to board the Hogwarts Express.

She lay awake that night, staring at her wand, unable to sleep. And she promised herself that she would become a great witch, strong enough to protect all of those whom she loved.

To Be Continued

I hope you enjoyed my first update. Please leave comments


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II: 1: All Aboard the Hogwarts Express

At 10:55 Harriet stood in the middle of King's Cross Station, alone and utterly confused due to Hagrid's lack of instruction on how to get to platform nine and three-quarters. She stood by the marker between platforms nine and ten in the hopes that someone would come along who could help her, but with time running short, she figured she may as well send the school a message with Hedwig, her owl, who she named after someone in _Hogwarts: a History_—an incredibly boring read, in her opinion. She had been told to send an owl if she was in trouble, and an inability to get to school, which she feared would land her right back at the Dursley's, was more than enough of an emergency in her mind to heed the advice.

But as Harriet began pushing her school things away from the divider, she heard a word that helped her breathe a sigh of relief.

"Every year, packed with Muggles of course—"

'Muggle,' thought Harriet, 'Hagrid used that word.' The girl turned back around to see a plump woman with fiery red hair leading a gaggle of children, all but one boys, with the same red hair toward the intersection between the two platforms that Harriet had just stepped away from.

"Come on," the woman continued, "platform nine and three-quarters this way."

Harriet tailed the last boy in the line, the youngest boy; she figured based on his height relative to the other boys—a tall, teenage boy and a set of twins, identical down to the last red hair.

"But Mom," cried the girl, "I want to go too."

"Oh, next year, Ginny," the woman hushed the young girl, who pouted in her direction. "Percy," she motioned toward the oldest boy, "you first."

Percy stepped forward with his cart and took a deep breath before charging straight at the wall between the platforms. Harriet almost cried out and shut her eyes in anticipation of the crash, but no sound came. And when she opened her eyes, she saw that the twins were preparing to start the same run. She forced herself this time to keep her eyes open to hopefully figure out how to board the platform. But when it happened, she couldn't believe her eyes. The two boys just vanished into the wall, one after the other. It was as if it were, well, magic.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity to ask the woman what to do, Harriet stepped forward, accidently bumping into the youngest boy's luggage cart in the process, "Um, excuse me," she said as the boy prepared to make the run, noticeably more terrified than his three brothers, "could you tell me how to…." She motioned toward the wall, to which the woman let out a gentle laugh.

"How to get onto the platform?" the woman asked, "Oh don't worry, it's Ron's first year at Hogwarts as well," she leaned down to Harriet's level, "Now, all you've got to do is run straight at the wall, and whatever you do, don't let it know you're afraid." She stood up and said to her son, "Ronald, why not show her how it's done?"

The boy's freckled face was instantly drained of all color. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before bursting into a sprint, straight for the wall, and just like his brothers, he disappeared through it.

"Now if you're nervous," the woman said to Harriet, whose heart began racing in her chest, "just make sure to go as fast as you can."

She nudged Harriet a bit, and the girl positioned herself.

"Good luck," the daughter, Ginny, said and Harriet took a deep breath, as the boys had done, before breaking into as fast a run as she could.

For a split second she thought she was going to crash, so she shut her eyes, awaiting the impact, but it never came. She slowed to a halt and when the horn of a train bellowed, she threw her eyes open and was dumbstruck by the sight of the massive red steam train labeled "Hogwarts Express" in large letters.

She pushed her cart toward the train where she was met by the twins. "Need some help there?" one of them said as they loaded their bags onto the back of the train.

"Yes please," Harriet said, and the two sprung into action, carefully placing her things on the train.

"I'm Fred, by the way," one of them, "and this is George," he pointed to the other.

"Or is it the other way around?" the other brother said with a smile.

"We never can keep it straight," they said simultaneously before walking off and boarding the train,.

Harriet, followed them on the train as the whistle blew for last call. Behind her, a distressed boy was talking with an older woman, "But Gran," he said, "I've lost Trevor."

"I swear, boy," she said as she pushed him onto the train, "if you lose that toad one more time I'm going to transfigure you into a shoebox to hold him in."

Harriet, not wanting to hear the poor boy receive any more of a lashing, made his way down the train, looking for a place to sit. However, every compartment was full, or at the least, very nearly. She had never liked to be thrust into groups, as she found out whenever her school forced her to do school projects. Dudley had made sure that she always had a hard time making friends, so she never really got used to conversing with multiple people at once. However, when she reached the back of the train, she saw the redheaded boy from earlier, Ron, sitting alone in a compartment.

Harriet knocked on the door, slid it open, and asked, "Mind if I sit here?"

The boy sat straight up and nodded, so Harriet stepped inside. The boy looked like he had something on his mind, but he seemed to nervous to speak to her for some reason, so Harriet spoke up first, "Um, thank you for helping me onto the platform."

"I'm Ron Weasley," he burst out, then his face turned to a deep shade of red out of sheer embarrassment.

"I'm Harriet Potter," she responded, and the boy's mouth dropped open.

"Harriet Potter?" amazement filled his voice, and his terrified expression was replaced with awe, "The Harriet Potter?" Harriet didn't know how to respond to this, "Is it true…." He continued, "Do you really have the…..the scar?"

"Oh," Harriet said with a smile as she lifted her bangs, revealing the lighting shaped scar on her forhead.

"Wicked," he said, "Do you remember—"

"Are all you're family wizards?" Harriet asked, not wanted to talk about the night her parents died, which she figured was where Ron was taking the conversation. Besides, it's not like she remembered much more than flash of green light.

"Yeah, all of them….well, I think so at least. My mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk to him. Something about irresponsibility and finances."

"With three wizard brothers, you must know a bunch of magic already," Harriet said, attempting to gauge just how behind she was in terms of magical knowledge. She had skimmed through all of her textbooks, her charms book being the most interesting by far, but she had yet to attempt any of the spells she had read about.

"Actually, five brothers, not to mention a git of a sister," he said, "Bill and Charlie, who already graduated are both working their dream jobs, and my older brothers all get good marks." Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "But Fred and George did teach me a spell the other day that's supposed to turn my rat yellow, wanna see?"

Harriet nodded her head excitedly. She'd seen a bunch of magic since leaving the Dursley's, but she was always eager to see more.

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a large rat, with a toe missing from one of his paws, "This is Scabbers," he said in disgust, "the fat loads been in the family for about a decade," he put the rat down and pulled out a very gnarled looking wand. He cleared his throat and said, "Sunshine daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow." But nothing happened.

Before either passenger could say anything to attempt to break the awkward silence that followed the failed spell, a woman with a trolley came to the compartment, "Would you like anything from the Trolley, dears?" she asked, and Harriet, who hadn't been able to eat anything out of sheer excitement all day, jumped up.

She started browsing the selection, not recognizing a single thing, when she noticed Ron unwrapping a sandwich.

"Are you going to get anything?" Harriet asked, but the boy simply looked down at his sandwich, as if ashamed.

"Give us one of everything," Harriet said, causing Ron to choke on his food for a moment. She then returned to the seats, arms loaded with sweets, which she then depositing on the seat. The first thing she picked up was a chocolate frog, but just as she was about to open it, she felt something move inside, "Ron, these aren't real frogs are they?"

She held up the box to Ron, who let out a laugh, "Of course, not it's just a spell."

Harriet, not wanting to eat anything that moved held it out to Ron, "Want it?"

"Oh, no," he said, "I'm good."

But Harriet could tell he was lying, "I'll trade you," she said, pointing to the other half of his sandwich, "half the sweets for the sandwich."

Ron looked as if he was going to jump across the seat and hug her, but he simply nodded, and Harriet passed him a few of the sweets.

The two ate, with Ron explaining each of the different foods she had bought whilst she told him what it was like living with the Dursleys, making sure to drive the point home that they were not indicative of all muggles.

"Have either of you seen a toad?" a girl with a bossy voice and already dressed in her school robes asked from the compartment doorway. Ron and Harriet looked up to see a girl, their age, with buckteeth and long, bushy brown hair. "A boy named Neville's lost one." Ron and Harriet shook their heads, and the girl's eyes wandered down to the wand by Ron's side, "Were you trying magic?"

"Yeah," Ron said, disappointed, "but the spell didn't work."

"Shame," she said in a slightly condescending voice, "I'm Hermione Granger by the way."

"Ron Weasley," Ron said, his mouth half full of food, causing both the girls to look at him in disgust.

"Harriet Potter," she said.

"The Harriet Potter?" the girl asked, "I've read all about you," she looked at Harriet for a moment, "You really should mend those glasses, you know."

"Yeah," Harriet said, not liking the girl's tone, "Not so easy when they break every other week."

"I've practiced a few spells myself. They always work for me," she shot Ron a smug look, "if you look in your charms book, you should find the Reparo spell." Without another word, the girl left.

"She seemed foul, didn't she?"

Harriet nodded in agreement as she pulled out her charms book and her wand. She had read about the Reparo spell, but hadn't bothered practicing. After all, Hagrid had told her that underaged magic wasn't allowed outside of Hogwarts. She turned the book to the proper page and held her glasses in front of her. Nervous, she moved her wand in the motion she memorized from the book and said, "Reparo." With a click, the glasses mended themselves, leaving Ron stunned and Harriet relieved that she hadn't blown her glasses up.

"Not bad," another voice came from the door. Harriet put her glasses back on and saw the boy from Madam Malkin's shop, "I see you've got your hair cut. It suits you," the boy stepped inside the compartment, flanked by two large boys who both had dim expressions on their faces, "I never got the chance to introduce myself. I'm Draco Malfoy, and this is Crabbe and Goyle," he motioned to the two boys that were following him.

Unbeknownst to Harriet, Ron clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at the blond boy. "Harriet Potter," the girl said with a smile.

"So it's true," Draco said, "I had heard rumors further up on the train that you had come to Hogwarts. I should have known it was you in Madam Malkin's shop," the boy smirked, "Why not join my friends and I near the front? We'd love to talk with you," Harriet couldn't place it, but something about the boy was putting her off. Possibly, she thought, it could have been his smile. She had seen that smile on Dudley's face whenever he bullied Petunia or Vernon into buying him a toy; it was a look that expressed that he felt he was entitled to everything.

"I'm sorry," Harriet politely declined, both due to the fact that she'd have to converse with multiple people, as well as her growing discomfort with this boy, "But Ron and I have set ourselves up pretty well here."

Draco looked over to the other passenger in the compartment for the first time. "Ron?" he quickly scanned the boy, "Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe….You must be a Weasley," the boy smirked, "I'm surprised your parents didn't leave you out on the curb, given your family's circumstances."

"Watch it, Malfoy," Ron said, his face flushed with anger, but Malfoy simply ignored the threat and turned back to Harriet.

"You better be careful about the sort of wizards you associate with, Potter. You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others," he extended a hand to the girl, "I can help you there."

Harriet crossed her arms and gave the boy a mean look before shooting back, "I think I can figure out the wrong sort for myself."

"Very well, Potter," the boy said as he picked up one of Harriet's cauldron cakes and took a large bite out of it, "Crabbe, Goyle, let's go."

The three boys left the compartment and the moment they disappeared down the train, Ron punched the wall of the train just below the window, wincing a bit after a light crack.

"You all right?" Harriet asked, concerned.

"It's nothing," Ron said, "his dad and my dad have a bit of a history. Typical Slytherins."

"What do you mean?" Harriet remembered hearing that it was one of the houses, and she was curious to find out a bit more.

"Just saying, you'd have a hard time naming a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-know-who himself was in Slytherin."

"Voldemort went to Hogwarts?" Harriet asked, and Ron bolted upright.

"You—you said His name?" he somehow managed to sound both terrified and impressed at the same time, "You of all people."

"I'm not being brave or anything," Harriet said, "I mean, I know Hagrid doesn't say Vol—His name. But I didn't know it was something you weren't supposed to say," Harriet buried her head in her hands, "Man, I have so much to learn about this world," she gripped her hair near the root and started pulling slightly, making sure to keep it subtle enough that Ron wouldn't notice.

"Relax," Ron said as he bit into a licorice wand, "there are loads of students from Muggle families who are as new to this as you are. You'll be fine." At this, Harriet felt some much-needed relief, "By the way, did you hear?" Ron leaned toward Harriet, "Someone managed to break into Gringotts the other day. Tried to rob a high-security vault."

"What did they steal?"

"That's the weird thing," Ron said, "My dad works at the ministry, and he told me that the vault that was broken into had already been emptied earlier that day."

For a moment Harriet wondered if the thief was after whatever it was that Hagrid stole, but she quickly shook this thought from her head.

The two continued conversing for the remainder of the train ride, until that Hermione girl came back and told them that they were going to be arriving soon and that they should change into their school robes.

Harriet had pulled her uniform out of her bag and was about to start changing, when Ron let out a squeak before bolting out of the compartment and shoving his back against the door. Understanding the reasoning, Harriet quickly shut the blinds to the compartment and began changing. As uncomfortable as she was in the idea of being naked around others, years of living in relative solitude had somewhat dulled her to the fact that other people may be around her—a fact that she made a mental note to be aware of in the future.

Finished changing, she knocked on the door, and Ron hopped in, almost fully dressed, but struggling to get his last sock on. But then the train screeched to a halt, and Ron lost his balance and fell to the ground, causing Harriet to burst into laughter, and the boy's face to turn a brighter shade of red than Harriet had ever seen.

Chapter II:2: The Castle

Led by Hagrid, the first years made their way across the black lake toward the distant castle. Situated atop a hill, from a distance it did not seem very fascinating, but once the boats docked at the opposite shore, Harriet was filled with awe at the sight of its imposing figure.

Off to the side, Harriet could see the boy who had been yelled at by his "Gran" before boarding the train stooping down to pick up something. Once he stood up, Harriet could see that he was holding a toad, "That must be Neville," Harriet said as she nudged Ron to attention.

"Yeah, poor bloke. This may sound strange coming from a boy with a pet rat, but if I had a pet toad, I'd probably die of embarrassment."

With everyone accounted for, Hagrid led the group up a flight of stone steps and stood before a huge oak door. He raised one mighty fist and knocked on it three times, causing the door to magically swing open.

Whatever feelings of amazement Harriet felt at the sight of the exterior of the castle paled in comparison to what she felt upon her first sight of the Entrance Hall. Large enough to fit the entirety of the Dursely's house inside it, the entrance hall was filled with suits of armor, moving portraits, floating candles…it was all too much for Harriet to take in all at once. But her attention was quickly drawn to a tall, stern-looking witch in emerald-green robes, "Thank you, Hagrid," she said in a voice that made Harriet think this was not a woman to cross, "I will take it from here."

The students all gathered around the witch and she addressed the crowd, "Welcome to Howarts. The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but first you must be sorted into your houses. While you are here, you will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend much of your free time in your house common room." She paused to allow the group to take in this information before continuing, "The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you are here, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will cause you to lose points. At the end of the year, the house cup goes to whichever house has the most points.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes within the Great Hall."

She took a moment to look over the group of now very nervous children, "I will return momentarily," she said before disappearing through the door into the Great Hall.

The youngsters, eagerly waiting for the professor's return, remained silent, mentally preparing for whatever test awaited them in the next room. But then something happened that made Harriet jump in shock, and caused several students behind her to scream.

Several ghosts glided by, arguing about something involving a "Peeves" before casually observing the new students. The ghosts whispered a few quiet words to each other before disappearing through the wall into the following room, leaving many of the students speechless, whilst others, like Ron, who had grown up learning about such things, simply brushed it off as normal.

When Professor McGonagall returned, she told the first years to form a line. With a stern reminder to be on their best behavior, she opened the door and led the first years into the Great Hall.

Harriet's knees nearly gave out beneath her at the sight of the magnificent dining hall. Countless candles hung unsuspended, illuminating the striking golden hue of the room. But the most amazing thing to her was the ceiling that seemed to open up to the heavens. Harriet almost felt that if she reached out far enough she could touch the stars; even Hermione's explanation of the enchantment couldn't shatter the beauty it held.

The professor led them down the middle of four giant tables where all of the older students already sat, eagerly awaiting the ceremony and the following feast. And at the far end of the hall sat the strangest assortment of teachers that Harriet had ever seen, and placed before them was a small stool with an overly patched hat perched on top.

Now Harriet's amazement turned to confusion. After all she had seen, she doubted that she had to do something as mundane as pull a rabbit out of that hat, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

But then the hat twitched and Harriet's jaw dropped as the hat started singing, but Harriet was so dumbstruck that she couldn't focus on what was sung, and before she knew it, Professor McGonagall stood beside the hat with a piece of parchment in hand, and told them, "Now, I will call each of you by name. When I do, take a seat on the stool and place the sorting hat on your head. When it sorts you into your houses, please proceed to your house's table." She unrolled the parchment and called the first name, "Abbot, Hannah."

As the girl approached the stool and placed the hat on her head, Ron leaned over to Harriet and whispered, "That's it? I'm gonna kill Fred. He said we'd have to wrestle a troll."

Shocked at the boy's apparent gullibility Harriet asked, "Why would you believe we'd have to wrestle a troll?"

Ron's embarrassed look was enough to tell Harriet that he hadn't thought much about it, but before Ron could justify himself, the hat screamed out, "HUFFLEPUFF," and a thunderous applause erupted from the Hufflepuff table as the girl removed the hat, placed it on the stool, and scurried over to the table.

When the applause died down, Professor McGonagall called the next student's name, "Bones, Susan…." The process continued for some time and the line of students continued to shrink until the professor called a familiar name, "Granger, Hermione."

The girl bounded up to the stool and shoved the hat on her head. Again, Ron leaned over to Harriet and whispered with, "A sickle on Ravenclaw." But when the hat sorted her into Gryffindor, Ron let out a groan as the girl ran to an empty seat at the Gryffindor table, "Well," he said, "I guess Hufflepuff wouldn't be so bad."

As the line got shorter and shorter, Harriet got more and more nervous about where she would be sorted, but once the Longbottom boy had been sorted into Gryffindor she figured that no matter where she ended up she'd be fine….

Until the professor called, "Malfoy, Draco." The boy walked up to the hat with a pompous smile and sat on the stool. The hat had barely graced the top of his head when it sorted him into Slytherin.

As he ran to the table he shot Harriet an expecting look, as if wishing her luck toward being sorted in Slytherin as well. So as the next few names were called, Harriet refined her thoughts, figuring that as long as she was not in Slytherin she would be fine.

She was so lost in her nervous thoughts that she almost didn't hear the professor call, "Potter, Harriet." For a split second the Great Hall fell into complete silence, but as she approached the stool Harriet could hear the murmurs from each of the tables. He even noticed one professor with greasy black hair fidget in his seat at the mention of her name. She sat on the stool and placed the hat on her head, noticing the many students craning their necks, desperate to see the girl.

"Hmm, difficult, very difficult," the hat whispered in her ear, "Plenty of courage and loyalty, and my such a hard past. And quite the quick wit I see. Hmm, and isn't this interesting, a thirst to prove yourself and the willingness to make sacrifices to do so. But what sacrifices I wonder."

The hat went silent for a moment and Harriet, afraid of the outcome, desperately though, 'Not Slytherin. Anything but Slytherin.'

"Not Slytherin, eh? Well that is curious. You would do well there: plenty of opportunities to satiate that thirst. But, if you're sure…" the hat paused again, and Harriet felt as if her heart was about to jump out of her chest. But then the hat shouted, "Gryffindor," and she felt as if she would collapse on the spot.

The entirety of the students in the hall with the exception of most of the Slytherin table erupted into a thunderous applause as Harriet made her way to the Gryffindor table and took her seat across from Hermione. Percy Weasley forced her into a handshake and her heart finally calmed down.

Ron was the last student to be sorted. Harriet had never seen anyone so nervous in her life. There was no color in Ron's already pale face, and he looked as if he would hurl at any moment. But shortly after he put the hat on his head, it shouted, "Gryffindor," and he seemed as if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. With a smile he bounded toward the Gryffindor table and sat next to Harriet, who couldn't help but notice the strange look the boy shot Hermione.

Once all the cheering had died down the old man with the long silver beard at the center of the staff table stood up and Percy nudged Harriet, "Get ready for one of Professor Dumbledore's famous speeches," he said, "You'll never hear anything like it." Excited, Harriet craned her neck, eager to hear what the man had to say.

The old man cleared his throat and, in a kind, but powerful voice that echoed throughout the hall, "Welcome. Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you." With nothing more to say the man sat down and everybody cheered.

But Harriet, bewildered at such an odd display, turned to Percy and asked rather bluntly, "He's a bit mad, isn't he?"

"Mad?" Percy repeated with a hint of a chuckle, "The man's a genius. Best wizard in the world….but yes, a bit mad. Apparently he considers getting his own chocolate frog card as his greatest achievement."

The fact that he had his own card came as a shock to Harriet, but she didn't have much time to think about it once the golden plates before the students were suddenly filled with food, dispelling any thoughts of collectible cards from Harriet's mind.

Roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. It was all there, ready for the taking, and Harriet, who had never had the opportunity to eat her fill dove into the food. She and Ron tackled to food at a breakneck pace, leading a couple of girls to shoot them strange, slightly grossed out, looks.

"You know you have to breathe eventually, right?" Hermione smirked, leading Ron to glare at her.

Harriet was about to shoot her a snarky comeback when a ghost hovered over to her side and said, "You can't really blame them, can you?" he directed his gaze at Hermione, "After 500 years of not eating I can assure you I wouldn't hold myself back if I was given the opportunity to eat again."

"Wait a tick, I know you," Ron explained with his mouth half filled with food, "You're Nearly Headless Nick."

"I'd prefer Sir Nicholas if you don't mind," the ghost said in a slightly annoyed tone, as if this were something he had to clarify year after year.

"How can you be nearly headless?" Harriet asked.

Wordlessly, the ghost sighed, grabbed his hair, and pulled his head to the side, revealing the tiny bit of sinew that prevented his head from being completely separated. The question answered, he tilted his shoulders to reposition his head before gliding away to converse with some older students a few seats down.

With the ghost gone, talk quickly turned to family and classes, but Harriet's gaze found its way to the staff table where she caught sight of Professor Quirrell talking to the greasy haired teacher. Out of nowhere an intense pain shot through her scar. Harriet's hand shot up to her forehead, but the pain quickly subsided.

"You all right there, Harriet?" Percy asked in a concerned tone.

"It's nothing," she said, "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?"

Percy glanced at the staff table before answering, "That's Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house. He teaches potions, but everyone knows he's been after the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for years."

Harriet had to force herself to tear her gaze from the Professor Snape, and before long the food had disappeared from the table. Dumbledore rose to his feet again and the hall fell silent.

"Just a few more words before we all head to our separate houses," Dumbledore's voice caused several sleepy students to straighten up, "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils, a fact that I hope our older students have taken to heart," Harriet couldn't help but notice that his eyes seemed to fixate on Fred and George for a moment before he continued, "And I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harriet was taken aback by this comment, "Percy, he's not serious, is he?"

"Must be," Percy said, "Though it's a bit odd that he'd not giving us a reason like he normally does for these sorts of things."

After this confirmation Harriet didn't know what bothered her more: the fact that something so dangerous was allowed to be kept in a school, or the fact that almost every student had a look on their face that seemed to accept this as some normal occurrence for a school.

The warning issued, Dumbledore led the school through a rather poorly coordinated rendition of the school song before bidding them goodnight and ordering them to their beds.

The students filed out of the Great Hall and the first years, led by their prefects, broke apart into their separate houses and made their way to their respective homes.

Exhaustion had started to fall upon Harriet as their neared the seventh floor and she let out a deep yawn when a loud pop brought her to attention, "Ooooh, Ickle firsties…..what fun." A being that looked not all too different from a ghost appeared.

Harriet looked ahead at Percy, who's furrowed brow told her that this….thing had been something of a nuisance to the boy before. But before she could ask Ron what this was about, it swooped down and perched itself weightlessly above Harriet's head, "Ickle pixie firstie," it looked down at the girl, "Cut your hair short like a boy's and you'll grow up to be one soon enough." It let out a loud cackle as Percy stepped up to the levitating creep.

"Peeves," he said forcefully, "Leave, or else the Bloody Baron will hear about this."

Peeves quieted itself, but continued to wear a malicious grin, "Pissy Percy, always a hit at the parties," it said before floating away, leaving the group in peace.

"You all should watch out for Peeves," Percy said as he made his way to the front of the group, "Poltergeists aren't known for being an agreeable lot."

The rest of the trek being without incident, Percy brought the group to a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress, "Password?" it asked Percy.

"Caput Draconis," the prefect responded, and the portrait slowly swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room beyond a large round whole in the wall.

'So this is home?' the thought ran through Harriet's mind as Percy pointed the new students to the proper dorms. Shaking, the girl made her way up the stairs to the girls dormitory and, upon reaching her new living space, had to steady herself against the wall to keep from falling to the ground.

Her trunk lay at the foot of a neat, nicely sized bed, and there was more than enough room to comfortably house all of the occupants. Harriet didn't know what the feeling was, but it left her speechless. She had never been treated as well as she had these past few days, and the sudden influx of hope and other positive feelings almost brought her to tears.

Unable to resist sleep much longer Harriet changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a loose pair of flannels and a large, white t-shirt; collapsed on her bed; and fell asleep.


End file.
